A Nose By Any Other Name
by Ladyamesindy
Summary: When called to the Royal Palace with the Warden Commander in the middle of the night, Nathaniel Howe is confronted by his unexpected past.


"Why do you not pace?"

From his position leaning against the wall, Nathaniel glanced over at the Warden Commander. For a woman used to being in command, one raised as a noblewoman at that, she seemed rather out of sorts at the moment as she prowled the hallway. "I was unaware that it was required," he offered dryly.

She paused in her movements, turning to frown at him, arms folded across her chest. He recognized that look. It was her, '_We are not amused,'_ look. Often it was aimed at Anders or Oghren, occasionally one of the others, but rarely at him. "So, you are used to being summoned in the middle of the night for an audience with the king and queen, are you?" she challenged hotly.

He sighed and left the question unanswered. There was no point in trying - she would pick at it, take his words and turn it around into an argument of some sort. It was her way when she was irritated, angry, confused. It had been the way from the first moment he had been reunited with her just months before. He hadn't recalled her behavior being like this when they were children, but then again, they'd hadn't been around each other much at that time. Since their reunion, their relationship had evolved from one of intense antagonistic dislike into one of mutual respect and, at times, admiration. But every so often ...

She began muttering to herself and turned to walk away in the process. This time, she was moving farther down the hall. Not wishing to lose sight of her, Nathaniel straightened and followed. Vigil's Keep could be a maze if you weren't familiar with the layout. The Royal Palace in Denerim was at least twice as large, if not more, and laid out in a completely different arrangement. And while he had no doubt that the Commander could find her way around easily enough, he was not about to test that. It would be better if they stayed together.

She came to a stop down the next long hallway, he noted, turning to stare at the collection of portraits that hung there. He caught up with her a moment later and turned to look. Some of them he recognized - official portraits of Maric and Rowan, and one of Cailan and Anora. To the right was one of Bryce and Eleanor Cousland, too. But it was not at that Elissa was staring. Rather, her attention appeared to be focused on the portrait to the left.

"Have you ever noticed," she observed while taking a step towards the painting, her hand rising to touch the gilded frame, "how you seem to ... resemble _him_ more than your own father?"

Nathaniel froze, eyes lifting to stare at the man in the portrait. Loghain MacTir, Teryn of Gwaren. Immediate protests of denial sprang to his lips, but never vocalized themselves. Truth was, as much as he might wish to deny it, he _had_ heard rumors to that effect. More than rumors, even ...

_"Rendon -"_

_"Did you think I would never figure it out?" he challenged. "Does the man even know?"_

_"You've already declared him as your own, what does it matter?" his mother returned heatedly. "You cannot deny him now!"_

_"Your deception was good, I'll grant you, but I will never accept him as my own."_

_Hiding in the shadows by the doorway, Nathaniel doubted either of his parents noted his presence. _

_"What are your intentions then?"_

_Rendon turned on her, eyes glowering as he towered above her. "I will send him to squire in the Free Marches," he growled. _

He'd been thirteen at the time. Old enough to sort of understand the line of discussion, but young enough still for it to be a difficult subject to grasp, personally.

A hand on his arm brought him back to the present. "Nate?" He glanced down. "Are you alright?"

He nodded out of instinct, used to hiding anything remotely problematic from her or the others. It had been a habit forced into as a child. "You would not be the first to make such an observation," he replied to her earlier question. Their eyes met and he saw stunned surprise there. "You asked me once why I was sent to the Free Marches to squire," he reminded her mildly, offering a small shrug to complete the thought. Her eyes widened further as the final connections were made.

"Then ... he was ...?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "The accusations were made. My mother never denied them. Whether it was true or just her attempting to bait my father, I do not know."

A heavy silence surrounded them for a long moment, but it was not unwelcome. There were no accusations made here, no challenges offered. When finally it did break, she commented mildly, "You do realize ... this would make you brother to Anora."

Nathaniel winced. "The thought has crossed my mind upon occasion," he responded. Then he straightened, eyes flaring in slight mischief as he reminded her, "But then again, I am a Warden. I have no family, no ties outside of the Wardens any longer. Best to just let it rest and fade away."

* * *

_This evolved out of a skype conversation between myself and two DA RP friends. Take it for what it's worth, but I just HAD to write it up!_


End file.
